There are a few times in life where you are deeply moved by a shaping experience. Dublin has been that for me.

The last month has been a tropical cyclone of celebrations, goodbyes, visitors, and road trips. In turn, it has left me spinning in a psychotic vortex of emotions and memories. I haven’t even had a moment to process the prospect of leaving and now it’s already happened. We’ve packed our last four years into 12 suitcases and left for Neverland… or somewhere-land, well it's also known as Vancouver. Let me start by saying a huge congratulatory shout out to the graduates this year. We spent the last while waiting on baited breath to see if S and all our friends officially received the honour of ‘doctor’ status. A job very well done by all. From the reading of marks to the official ceremony and the formal grad ball, all were moments to reflect and remember for a long time! Times like these always remind me of Dr. Seuss’ Oh the places you’ll go book, which, if you haven’t read it you definitely should.

We all have moments that overwhelm us with emotion, whether it be the birth of your first child (I imagine), or saying goodbye to all your friends at the end of a tough long journey that you’ve shared. How it happens - The moment happens, you are overwhelmed, and you feel your chest tighten as the memories flood your mind and sometimes, just sometimes, a tear may trickle down. [Or in my case a waterfall.] Saying goodbye sucks, it fecking sucks, it’s the worst thing in the world and all our goodbyes were a little ‘dusty’. The morning we left, we lugged the bags (all the size of a large adolescent child) down the stairs from our first floor apartment, checked the place one last time, and I walked out without looking back. I knew if I did, the emotions would run too high for me to stop. I got the cab. Meanwhile, I knew S had taken the picture of our front door as a token to take with us, still - I didn’t want to look.

I was just in the moment, heading to the airport keeping my mind straight and mindful. This just had to be done. After a quiet ride to the airport, checked-in, yadda, yada, yada… fast forward, we’re sitting on the plane and i had nothing to do but surf the social media channels. I flipped open instagram and the photo of my front door popped up in my feed.

Remember when i told you about that ‘moment’, the moment where everything falls apart and you’re overwhelmed? Well, my front door stared back at me while the plane taxied to the last runway, picked up speed shaking violently as the front took off.

That was ‘the moment’, a most powerless moment. The monstrous pull, up, into the air reminded me of the immense force that moves you forward, leaving behind the friends and memories you hold dear. We were in the air. That was the point of no return because no matter how hard you want to run from it, the forward inertia would be too strong to fight. Oh, and you’re also strapped to a chair. That was the embarrassing moment I sat on the plane sobbing for the world to see. I hope some of you who have now left Dublin empathise, in part, with this sentiment.

Recently, friends have asked “How do you feel about leaving” or “Are you excited to go home”? I haven’t been able to answer fully other than stating the fact that it will be hard to leave, and we have enjoyed our time living in Ireland. When I came to Ireland three years ago, I never thought that it would be harder to leave Dublin than it was to leave home. It is more than home for us. I have discovered so much about myself and loved everything about the country. We have made friends that I’ll have for a lifetime.

Dublin is about the people, the place, and the vibrant community. There is something magical about it. I’m not saying that there isn’t community elsewhere, or that we won’t find it, but it’s hard to tear yourself from something that has subtly become core to who you are, even if it’s only been a few short years. Although I feel it untimely, I’m not sure there ever would be a good time to go. I’m grateful, so incredibly grateful for the creativity I’ve found and hilarious craic we’ve had, the music, the love, and sincere friendships. I’ve been grieving the move for about six months, so in the spring we asked our talented friend and photographer Al Higgins take some photos for us to bottle a bit of Ireland to take with us.

Al’s photos, to me, speak volumes but also capture what Ireland feels like. Hope you’re ok with me sharing a few photos from our weekend with Megh & Al. This post is about you, every single one who we met. Even if you think it's not about you... it is.

Apologies for the astoundingly lengthy outpouring. I hope to continue sharing Ireland with you from afar.